As old Irmy slept, the wine shop gradually filled, while in the large tavern room the landlord was kept equally busy supplying the Burgundian officers with wine, cards, and dice. Duke Charles would permit no gambling among the common soldiers, and regarded it with great disfavor for the officers also; but to-day the players had no fear of discovery.
“You are on duty to-day, Vögeli?” asked one of the men from Freiburg.
“Yes; that is why I was not in the procession. It is a pity I was forced to miss it.”
“Nay, waste no regrets on that,” was the answer; “between dust and sweat we almost perished. What say you,—shall we have a game?”
“I do not care much for play,” replied Vögeli, “but as you please.”
They seated themselves accordingly and began to play, while the other tables were lively with all kinds of sport.
“Do you know,” said one, “why the Duke sent that magnificent diamond ring to his new page? Faith, it was because he wished the Prince good luck in his pursuit of Fortune.”
“All do not get such rich rewards,” said another; “the Duke is often displeased by such things.”
“Do you remember Lord de Comines?” asked a third; “he stood high in Charles’s favor, was his private secretary, and presumed more than any favorite ever had dared, yet even he once excited the wrath of the Duke. After a banquet, one night, he bethought him ’twould be a rare jest to sleep off his drunkenness in his master’s bed. But Charles soon awakened him.
“‘Good friend,’ he said, ‘you have forgotten your boots,’ and kneeling down he drew them off himself; then he flung them at the head of the now sobered secretary, and ordered him from the room to finish his slumbers in his own bed. Comines was known ever after as ‘Puss in Boots,’ and was received with scoffs and jeers whenever he ventured to show his face. Now he hobnobs in Paris with King Louis and weaves intrigues against us.”